Pesky Pixies, Pester Not Me
by sweetysmart0505
Summary: Dean and Sam and a run in with... pixies! Resulting in a piece of fluff. Dean Winchester in pink? No one ever saw this coming! Fluffy OneShot! No Wincest!


_Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners, Eric Kripke, the CW._

**A/N**: I couldn't help but write this. This was going to be an actual story, but I never found the time to write it. So, this piece of fluff was what came out of it. I really hope you like it! It's really not like _anything_ I've ever written before! Enjoy!

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**Pesky Pixies, Pester Not Me**

"I could sleep for a week after that hunt," Dean sighs through a stifling yawn. Lying down on the bed closest to the door, he kicks off his biker boots without any regard for cleanliness, and puts his hands behind his head, leaning against the backboard. Finally, he closes his eyes. He can't help but open them slightly again when he hears quaint ruffles. His hazel eyes wander the room, landing on Sam.

"We're leaving in the morning. I don't care what you say about being tired. There might be another hunt in this town. Possibly pixies," Sam replies gruffly. He then snarls at something as he digs through his personal duffel. "Dude, keep your dirty laundry out of my bag!" Sam snipes, whipping a blue shirt across the room, aimed right at Dean.

Jumping, Dean grabs the shirt from its mark, winding it into a tight ball. "Oh Sammy, I thought you loved to the laundry," Dean chuckles, throwing in as much sincerity as possible, before throwing the shirt back at his brother.

Sam growls at him. "Of course I do Dean. It's right up there with sweeping the floor and cooking your food." He catches the shirt easily, and smirks as Dean frowns. With his left, he throws it to the ground relatively near Dean's bag.

Dean grins in success. "Well, I am glad that's settled," he states pointedly. He makes himself comfortable on the bed once more before adding, "You're cooking my breakfast in the morning."

Sam groans. He was totally not in the mood for this. "I was being sarcastic, Dean!"

Without even looking at him, Dean corrects, "Didn't sound that way to me." He then threw in a soft grin, one saying, 'You're making me breakfast whether you like it or not!' After a few more minutes of silence, Dean sighs, "Would you hurry up? … And turn your light out when you're done."

Sam shakes his head, annoyed, but he can't help but get back at big brother. He goes just a little bit slower. He, personally, had previously slept in the not-so-comfortable Impala, their only constant home, and wasn't quite ready to sleep in the even-more-not-so-comfortable bed just yet. Despite all his efforts, though, Sam was done right then and, with no other reason to stay up, Sam climbed into bed. Though it took another few minutes to fall asleep, both brothers were slept peacefully.

But morning came all to fast. Dean squinted as sunlight began to hit his eyes. Sleeping closest to the door also meant he got first shot at the window. But Dean couldn't figure out why Sam wasn't closing the curtains. He needed his beauty sleep after all. Then, much to his surprise, Dean heard a cheery, "Good morning, sunshine!"

Dean groaned. "Sam! Shut the damn curtains!"

"But Dean, I..." Sam stuttered, but quickly shut his mouth.

Dean frowned. His brother sounded genuinely hurt. Like a slap-to-the-face hurt. His brotherly guilt built up so that eventually he couldn't help but open his eyes to see what was wrong.

Then Dean saw it! It was horrifying! A sight Dean never expected to see as long as he lived. Weirder than anything he ever hunted! It was Sam. Sam wearing a bright yellow apron, standing in front of their little table holding a frying pan. The pan was still sizzling and Dean was absolutely sure it was bacon he smelled, and not just store bought, frozen bacon, but farm fresh bacon.

Sam smiled warmly. "I cooked you breakfast!"

"Sam, what the hell are you wearing?" Dean snickered, climbing out of bed to get a better look.

Looking down, Sam answered, "The lady with the sparkly eyes at the mini-mart said it was half-price."

Dean swallowed his laughter.

Sam mistook it as regret. "Oh, but don't worry Dean, I got you one, too!" Sam replied happily, putting down the warm bacon before pulling out a fluorescent pink one from the pocket of his own. "I hope it fits."

Suspicion consumed Dean. "Did you really go to a mini-mart while I wasn't looking and bought two... hideous looking aprons, all so you could cook breakfast?"

Sam nodded vigorously. Sam walked toward Dean, who still had a bewildered smirk plastered on his face, and demanded, "Put this on Dean."

Dean's amused look diminished. "What?"

"Put it on."

"Are you crazy. I am not going to put an apron on, Sam!" Dean continued to back up, to escape the wrath of his brother. Whatever the hell was going on, it sure wasn't good.

"Please Dean?" Dean shook his head. "Pwease?"

'Did Sam just say pwease?' Dean couldn't believe it. His disbelief didn't last long as Sam grabbed Dean's upper right arm and pulled him forward. Dean couldn't even begin to struggle as Sam slipped the apron over his head. Dean pulled away. But when he looked down, Dean almost screamed. He never ever _ever_ in a million years had seen this coming. He was actually wearing an apron... and a florescent pink one to boot!

"Sam, what the hell!"

"Oh good, it fits!"

Dean was even more horrified now than he ever was before. Something then caught his attention in Sam's direction. Not only was it in Sam's direction, it came from Sam himself. His eyes were sparkling. The light was hitting them and it made them sparkle... in a way that no human eyes could. "Sam, what did you say we were hunting in this town?" Dean struggled to remember what his brother had said the night before... something about possible... It slipped his mind. Something was making him all calm. It was as if the power of the apron was putting a spell on him... a spell that made his feel like... cleaning? Yes, Dean Winchester felt like sweeping, and doing laundry, and cooking!

Suddenly, Dean smiled. "Come on, Sammy! I don't know when the last time we did laundry was. It's awful! We better take care of this right away!"

"Yes! To the laundry room!"

So, arm in arm, Sam and Dean Winchester skipped down the sidewalk toward the destined laundry room while nearby a pack of pesky pixies were dancing about in joyous song, thinking of all the ways to have a little bit of fun. Maybe after laundry they could make the boys...

**End**

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**A/N**: Was it bad? Please leave me a review and let me know!


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